


The mere idea of you

by bluesaturn



Series: Pride Month 2020 [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Cole Anderson, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Music, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Fluff, Gay Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson doesn't hate androids, Identity Issues, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesaturn/pseuds/bluesaturn
Summary: A year after the Android revolution Connor still feels lost and unsure of his own identity. All he knows is that he likes music. It’s music that ends up connecting him with musician Hank Anderson and somehow after that, his whole life just seems to fall into place.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Pride Month 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769089
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	The mere idea of you

It’s been exactly a year since the last day of the Android revolution and Connor still feels exactly as lost as he had been back then. He’s just been let go from his job again and he supposes he should be sad about it, but all he feels is restless. 

It seems like he’s tried everything - though his processors helpfully supply that this would be nearly impossible, as there are currently more than a few ten thousand careers one could theoretically choose from. But logic doesn’t really help with emotions, an unfortunate fact he has learned during his deviancy. 

So he takes out his coin and lets it glide across his fingers, an action no longer just needed to recalibrate his systems, but one he finds soothing as well. Connor wanders the streets of Detroit aimlessly while thinking about what he wants to do next. 

Everyone else seems to have adjusted to their deviancy by now, more or less, some well, some less well. Connor however sometimes isn’t sure he even deserves to call himself a person yet. 

He isn’t good at working at the grocery store. It doesn’t give his processors enough to do and he finds himself _spacing out_ as his former employer worded it, way too often. He liked working with kids at the kindergarten but it seems kids don’t like him. He doesn’t want to go back to police work, the thought of seeing his clothes stained with blood again, red or blue, feeling nothing but sickening. He has had the same problem with working at the hospital. Working in the bureau had been so mind-numbingly boring that he had felt the urge to hit his head against the wall to self-destruct at least three times a day. He had quit that job himself after a week out of self-preservation. 

Connor also doesn’t feel like he himself is… interesting. He barely has anything to talk about other than his various failures at work. He is so hard focused on keeping one of the jobs, not really sure how to get the money for thirium and various repairs he sometimes will need otherwise. It is a small miracle he’d found this many employers even willing to hire an Android, though public opinion seems to have swayed in their favor these days, it’s far from perfect.

Connor barely has had the time to try to find out what any of his interests are. He only learned so far that he enjoys listening to music and he isn’t even sure if that can really count as a hobby. 

It’s probably not a good idea to spend any of his hard-earned money right now, not until he has a replacement job again. But it's almost like he can't control where his feet bring him. Logic really isn’t one of his strong suits anymore, not since becoming deviant. 

Connor steps into the little record store, a melodious bell alerting the store owner of his presence. He's currently talking to another customer, a rare sight in this small establishment. but he still interrupts the conversation to smile at Connor as he sees him.

"Hey, Connor! I got the new album of that band you liked!"  
Connor mumbles a polite “thanks”, not wanting to interrupt their conversation further. Cody is always nice to him, so most days he just pretends not to see the residue glue on the door where the "No Androids allowed" stickers used to be. They're against the law these days, though Connor still sees them from time to time. (He doesn't really mind that much, he prefers to know which locales he should straight-up avoid.) 

Connor keeps standing there awkwardly, waiting for Cody to retrieve his CD while pretending not to listen to his conversation with the stranger. It is such an outdated medium that it’s rarely used these days anymore. But Connor likes having a physical copy of his music, something to put in his otherwise pretty empty room that screams _I am alive_. 

Literally everything else would be more convenient than having his music on CDs, cassettes, and the few vinyls Cody had somehow managed to still get his hands on. But Connor likes to listen to those. It is the only thing this far that feels like him. And that is a comforting thought whenever these little doubts creep into his mind palace that maybe he isn’t deviant enough to play pretend at being human. 

He takes the CD with a thankful smile from Cody and the man at the register looks at it with a grin. His long gray hair is hanging in his face and the wrinkles around his eyes indicate he’s around fifty years old. The smile makes him look a lot younger, however. 

“Man, I used to love this band when I was younger,” he says, taking a look at Connor’s CD... “I can’t believe they made a comeback after all these years.”  
Connor having immediately looked up everything there was to know about the band, as he did with everything, of course, already knows all about their younger years, but a voice in his head, sounding way too much like Nines’ reminds him of the fact that he doesn’t have any friends and it may be a good idea to try and make some.  
So he smiles at the stranger and says: ”I like their new music a lot. I hope I can see them in concert one day.”  
The human looks at him with a gruff face and Connor is about to put this down as his second failure of the day, as the man starts talking.  
The man begins to tell him about their early music, how he sneaked into a concert when he was younger, that his parents hadn’t allowed him to go to.  
Connor finds he quite enjoys talking to him. Maybe not that bad of a day after all. 

Connor leaves the store with a less heavy heart, a new CD and vinyl and the offer to go out for a beer with Hank, the man he had talked to. (“Or whatever the fuck Androids drink, fuck if I know!”)  
When Connor puts himself into stasis that night, he feels a little bit better again.

Perhaps he should have foreseen that the next day would be a catastrophe. Job advertisement after job advertisement stating why this job can’t be done by an Android for one reason or another. (The only valid reason by law not to offer the jobs to Androids as well.) Not that most of the reasons are valid at all, but Connor highly doubts that the police cares. 

He has gone through everything twice within an hour and then decides it is hopeless. Maybe he would just stay in his bed for a week and ignore the impending feeling of doom. Maybe he’d finally find a proper hobby. Or adopt a cat. Maybe he’d buy a van and drive around the US until he ran out of money for gas or thirium. Probably not the last one. It is a little out of his current budget.

He’s wallowing in self-pity as he gets a notification about a new text message.  
It’s from Hank and Connor feels his thirium pump beat faster in a feeling he has learned is called excitement. It looks like he has managed to make a friend after all.

The text is asking to meet at a cafe instead of the bar Connor had expected but he doesn’t really have a preference either way. Though he’s never been to a bar before, he had been kind of curious. He quickly texts back an affirmative and then spends the rest of the time waiting and listening to his new CD. (It’s pretty great.) 

The cafe isn’t the kind of place he would have someone like Hank expected to pick. It’s loud and busy, practically buzzing with life. But there’s beautiful artwork on the walls and soft indie music is playing in the background. A quick look on the menu reveals that this cafe caters to Androids as well and Connor wonders if that’s why Hank picked it out. The thought makes him smile. He highly doubts that the thirium coffee will taste in any way different than regular thirium but it’s a nice sentiment nonetheless. 

Connor spots Hank after a moment, sitting in a booth in the corner of the cafe. He smiles as he spots Connor. Connor sits down in the booth opposite him and just a moment later, an Android waitress hands them a small menu.  
Connor studies it and feels a little overwhelmed with all the options while being fairly certain they’ll all taste the same anyway, there’s a fair amount of them.

“Found something you like?”, Hank asks and Connor hesitates.  
“I’m not sure. I’ve never tried anything like this.”  
Hank’s smile is kind and understanding and Connor immediately feels himself relax. Sometimes it’s still hard for him to be himself around other people, with all his insecurities and not quite having figured out yet who he is. But Hank makes it feel easy this far. Perhaps even more so than Nines. It’s a new feeling but definitely a welcome one. 

“Want a recommendation?”, Hank asks and Connor nods.  
“I like their cappuccinos,” he says and Connor’s LED blinks yellow as he processes that.  
He’s still new to trying things, sometimes his base programming screams at him with all of its power because he was never supposed to want things. It’s still hard some days to admit he wants things. Sometimes saying so feels like a revolution.  
But Cyberlife lost and Connor is alive.  
He’s not sure why he’s pondering this in the middle of a coffee shop.  
“I’ll try one,” he eventually says and Hank orders for them. 

His drink looks exactly the same as Hank’s as if someone had made a regular cappuccino but dropped blue food dye into it. Connor has to admit he is a little bit impressed. 

Connor takes a sip.  
“I like it,” he decides.  
Every time he does say those words it feels like another tiny victory against Cyberlife. Nines says it isn't healthy to keep score like this but he also hasn’t had to go through the same horrors Connor did. Connor is glad for that, he’s fairly certain neither of them would be alive right now, had that been the case. 

Hank smiles, as he takes a sip from his own mug. 

They talk about music. A topic, as it turns out, which Hank is even more passionate about than Connor himself.  
Soon Connor learns all about Hank’s favorite bands, songs, and genres. He’s easy to talk to, in a way that not a lot of people are for Connor.  
“Do you make music too?”, Hank asks sometime after his second cappuccino.  
“I haven’t really had a chance to try it,” Connor says which is more or less true.  
“Hm. Do you want to?”  
It’s about twenty minutes after Hank asked that question that Connor ends up at his home. 

Hank’s house looks different than he imagined or rather preconstructed it. The kitchen table is filled with takeout containers and pizza boxes Hank hurriedly stuffs into the trash as Connor enters the room. There a small potted plants on the windowsills and a child’s drawings on Hank’s refrigerator. Unlike Connor’s place, it looks like a home. He likes it immediately. 

“You have a lovely home,” Connor says and gets a smile in response before Hank turns toward the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of beer.  
“I’d offer you one but…”  
“I’m alright,” Connor reassures him and keeps looking around Hank’s house. His social protocols indicate he’s being nosy but Hank doesn’t really seem to mind, so he ignores them. 

Hank’s living room is lovely. There is a huge leather couch in the center of the room, a big flat-screen TV in front of it. But Connor’s eyes are drawn to the corner of the room, where a black grand piano stands. He’s never seen one in real life before.  
“It’s beautiful,” he says in awe.  
“You can touch it,” Hank snickers amused.  
Even with permission Connor hesitates for a second before gliding his fingers over the keys of the piano.  
“You wanna try to play?”, Hank suggests and Connor feels nervousness bubble up in his chest. What if he’s not good at this as well? But it’s such a beautiful instrument and something in Connor just feels drawn towards it. So he sits down on the small bank in front of it.  
“I have no idea how to. I could download -”  
But Hank interrupts with a throwaway hand motion. “Eh, I’ll show you. More organic that way.”  
Connor’s LED blinks yellow as he nods.  
“Okay.”  
He’s not really used to learning information this way and he’s terrified he’ll mess up but Hank is smiling at him, as he lies his fingers onto the keys.  
“Messing up is part of the process”, Hank encourages him and Connor briefly wonders if that applies to his life as well. 

They spent the next hour sitting in front of Hank’s piano, the man ever patient as he teaches Connor how to play. At the end of it Connor manages to play a very simple piece all by himself. It probably would have taken him a lot less time, had he simply downloaded the skill but to his surprise Hank is right. It feels better to learn it this way and when he finally manages to play that little piece of music flawlessly, it feels like a huge accomplishment.  
Connor’s fairly certain this is the most fun he’s had since his activation.

“See, you’re a natural,” Hank compliments him.  
His smile is beautiful and contagious and Connor can’t help but smile back.  
“Can you teach me something else?”, he asks.  
He doesn’t want to be too over eager but Connor wants to keep playing.  
“Sure. Are you free on Saturday? I have to pick up my son in an hour.”  
And with that Connor leaves Hank’s home with a date to meet again and a smile on his face. 

Something feels different, through Connor can’t exactly pinpoint what. He ponders over it that night, standing in his tiny apartment. He silently vows to buy a couch or a bed whenever he next gets a paycheck. While he doesn’t technically need to “sleep” lying down, he knows it’s ridiculous to not have a place to relax by now. 

Some days he regrets not having accepted more of Nines’ help in the aftermath of the revolution. Connor considers him to be like a brother and Nines has been acclimating to his own deviancy a lot better than Connor, ironic as that is.  
But he’d refused every offer of help and found this small apartment all by himself. He also moved all by himself, not that it had been much of hassle. He didn’t exactly have a lot of possessions back then. Still, his flat looks bare that night, compared to the livelihood of Hank’s house. 

Connor’s thoughts keep coming back to the man. He likes him, he knows that much for certain. Hank makes him smile and it’s still a somewhat rare occurrence to be treated with that much kindness. (Things aren’t as bad as they used to be, but they're not great either. Connor thinks they might not be for a very long time.) 

Music is fascinating. Connor hadn’t expected to find such joy in making it but he can almost feel his fingers itch with the urge to play again. It feels as if he’s finally found something where he feels like he belongs. The thought is overwhelming and beautiful all at once and Connor can’t wait for Friday to come. 

He spends the time until then writing job applications, listening to music and one day even meets up with Nines.  
It’s starting to feel almost like he has a life. Connor decides he loves it. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Connor says, as they’re standing in his empty apartment, that is richer one potted plant, similar to the ones he saw on Hank’s windowsill.  
“About?”  
“I think this room needs a couch.”  
“Oh thank ra9, finally!”  
Connor rolls his eyes.  
“You’re not even religious!”

They spend that day scrolling through IKEA, like they’re just a pair of normal young brothers, looking for furniture for their very first apartment. If Amanda could see him right then, Connor knows she would hate absolutely every minute of it. 

Nines insists on paying for the couch and helping in getting it up the narrow stairs of his apartment complex and for once Connor accepts the help. It makes his living room look even smaller but also more... well, lived in. 

And even though comfort doesn’t really matter for him the same way it does for humans, going into stasis that night on that couch is the best _not technically sleep_ he’s ever had. 

Friday has Connor waking up early. He feels almost giddy with excitement, which is once again a new but pleasant emotion. His mood gets even better when he checks his E-Mails and sees that he got a job interview. 

It's not for anything exciting, simply a job at a small little coffee shop downtown. Connor's not certain he won't be bored at it once again, but it's something to pay his bills for now at last. So he confirms the appointment and then heads to get dressed for the day, excited to get to see Hank once more. 

He calls an automated taxi and lets it drop him off right in front of Hank's front door. When he presses the doorbell and has to wait for an obnoxiously long time, he wonders for a second if Hank forgot about their meeting. But then the man opens his door. He's dressed in sweatpants and a wrinkled shirt that has a small hole in it, where he can see Hank's shoulder underneath. His hair is tousled and all in all, Hank looks like he just woke up from a nap. It's... endearing, really. 

"Hey," Connor says, smiling at him.  
"Hey. Sorry about this," Hank gestures vaguely at his whole person before stepping aside and letting Connor into his home.  
Hank makes a beeline for the fridge, grabbing a bottle of juice out if it before heading to the living room and the grand piano inside. Connor follows him and sits down on the bank before it, just like last week.  
"I had to watch Cole unexpectedly. Babysitter fell though and I worked very late last night, seems I overslept by a little bit."  
"It's quite alright, Hank."  
"Cole's upstairs, hopefully doing his homework."  
"Might I ask what you do for work?"  
"Huh, thought you might have figured it out by now. I'm a musician. On a bit of a time crunch working on my new album, hence the late-night work."  
Connor is fascinated. He really badly wants to hear Hank play something now.  
Before he can ask, however, Hank turns to him and asks: "What do you do for work?"

Connor could tell him about the new job at the coffee shop or about his various failed other career paths, but somehow that doesn't feel right.  
"I'm not sure," is what he goes with because it feels the most honest.  
For some reason Hank finds that amusing, he laughs as Connor says it.  
"Yeah, I know the feeling. Alright, wanna play?"  
And with that, both of them turn towards the piano.

It doesn't take long for Connor to lose himself in the music. It's almost as if the world suddenly starts to make sense to him, whenever his fingers touch the piano keys. It feels as if he's been doing this for years, despite the fact it's only his second time sitting in front of a piano at all.  
"Nice job," Hank praises him.  
"Can I hear you play?", he asks.  
Hank hesitates for a second before he asks: "Wanna hear what I've been working on?"  
And with that, they switch places.  
The moment Hank starts playing Connor wonders how he has never heard his name before. The way Hank plays is mesmerizing. It reminds Connor of one of the old vinyls Cody had found for him somewhere, filled with old classical music pieces, only that this is somehow even better. He doesn't expect Hank to start singing but when he does Connor can't help but stare at him. He already likes Hank's voice when he's speaking, it's deep, rich and dark. But Hank singing - Connor's not certain he could describe it. All he knows it that he could sit there for hours, listening to Hank making music and never get tired of it. 

"Wow," is all he says as Hank finishes his piece.  
Hank smiles at him sheepishly.  
"It's not quite finished yet, but I think I like it this far."  
Connor's not sure how one could even improve that song but as he tells Hank as much the other man laughs. He seems to be doing that a lot around him. Connor likes it. 

The first time Hank gives Connor a guitar he just can't seem to get the hang of it. Luckily he's a very fast learner if it's because he's an Android or because he is what Nines would call stubborn as hell, Connor is not entirely sure. By the second time he plays, it feels as if he's been doing it all his life. 

Connor's always been good at knowing who he isn't. Deciding who he is, is a little bit harder. But sitting there in Hank's music room, playing some new-ish pop song while Hank sings along, Connor is 100% certain that this is exactly where he belongs. 

"You know, I've been thinking," Hank says after they finish the song.  
"About?"  
"There's still one song missing on my album. Wanna write and sing it with me?"  
Connor's LED whirls yellow as he processes this request.  
He enjoys spending time with Hank and he really likes making music. He likes spending time with Hank more than with anyone else, even the nice coworkers at his new job or Nines. On the one hand, it seems like too much of an incredible opportunity to pass up. But on the other hand…

"I've never sung before,” he says and Hank looks at him as if he's grown an extra head.  
"You... what? Never in your life?"  
Connor shakes his head, trying to ignore the embarrassment flooding through his veins.  
Hank grins mischievously.  
"Oh, I have an idea!"

So that is why Connor finds himself inside a bar later that evening. Hank managed to find a babysitter for Cole for that night and Connor sits there, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his shirt, while they wait. He's not entirely certain trying to sing in front of a bunch of strangers for the first time is the best idea but Hank had looked so excited - well, Connor had never really much cared about embarrassing himself anyway. 

When he finds himself up on that stage five minutes later Connor isn't sure what exactly he was even so worried about. Singing is easy. It just feels right and Connor's fairly certain he's never had so much fun. Singing with Hank is... something else. The way Hank smiles at him, the way his eyes twinkle, the way Connor can almost see on his face how much he's enjoying this, it's all a lot. Connor's not sure he could name the emotion if he tried, but he knows he wants more of it. It's one of those things that make Connor feel alive. 

They’re sitting on Connor’s living room couch and Hank holds a small notebook in his hands. One made of paper at that. Connor’s never seen someone use one before. 

“So, what do you wanna write about?”, Hank asks as if Connor’s the one with songwriting experience.  
“I don’t know?”  
Those still feel like weird words to say out loud to him.  
“It’s easiest to write about something you know. Like experiencing, feelings.”  
Connor’s contemplating that but still comes up empty. The most interesting experience of his life thus far has been meeting Hank and he’s sure Hank doesn’t wanna write about that. At least as far as positive things go because Connor is fairly certain he doesn’t wanna talk about Cyberlife. The thought makes him feel almost nauseous, even though that shouldn’t be possible.  
“Alright, different approach. What are your favorite songs usually about?”  
It takes Connor about 0.2 seconds to analyze the lyrics of 500 of his favorite songs for their theme.  
“I guess I like love songs?”, he says though it comes out more like a question.  
Hank nods.  
“Okay, that’s a start. Have you ever been in love?”  
It’s a difficult question to answer because Connor isn’t sure what falling in love even is supposed to feel like.  
“I don’t think so?”  
Hank crinkles his brow in thought and Connor can’t help but think it looks cute on him. Cute seems like a weird word to describe him, but at that moment, it fits.

“Hm. Have you ever kissed someone?”  
That question brings back memories from a night a couple of months ago, where Nines had dragged him to a party, insisting Connor needed to at least try to make some friends.  
It’s where he had met Chloe again and she was grateful Connor had spared her life back then. 

They talked and she looked very beautiful in her green dress. Then they had tried making out because apparently that was a thing people do at parties and Connor could hear Nines’ voice in his head telling him to mingle.  
They didn’t talk about the kiss again afterward but Connor didn’t like it and as far as he could tell Chloe felt the same way about it.  
He really hadn’t had a chance to try again with someone else, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. It made him feel... weird. Like there was something wrong with him. 

“I have tried kissing a girl. It wasn’t particularly great.”  
Connor started to retell Hank his version of events. Technically that was probably more than Hank wanted to know, but something about him made it feel easy for Connor to open up to him.  
After Connor finished Hank simply shrugged.  
“Well, maybe it just isn’t your thing. Or maybe you should try kissing a guy,” Hank suggests. The second line is said in a light-hearted tone with a smile on his face. He’s teasing, Connor realizes. Still, Hank raises a valid point. He hadn’t considered that his interests might just lie...elsewhere.  
It’s an option to consider.  
“Yeah, maybe I should.”  
“Huh,” Hank says before turning back to his notebook. There’s a slight blush creeping up on his face that makes him look even more handsome than usual.  
Connor can feel his core temperature rise by two degrees as well as his thirium pump speeding up before the little error messages even appear. _Interesting_. He’ll look into this further later, but for now, he has to focus on the task at hand.

Once Hank suggested it, Connor’s not sure how he hasn't seen it before.  
The way his thirium pump speeds up every time Hank looks at him. How he would spend every single minute with him if he could. How handsome he looks. It’s all so overwhelming and Connor lets out a frustrated sigh, as he stares at the small notebook in his hands. 

Nines looks at with an amused smile.  
“Come on, it isn’t that bad.”  
“We’ve decided to write a love song. It’s a duet.”  
“There are worse things to do with your crush.”  
“He also has a kid.”  
“You love children!”  
“I’m not even sure if I am - gay?”  
“Connor?”  
“Yeah?”  
“You’ve spent the last 50 minutes wallowing in self-pity because you have a crush on a guy. As far as I’m aware that means you are definitely not straight.”  
Connor sighs.  
“What do I do now?”  
“Ask him out like a normal person?”  
Connor stays silent.  
“You can of course also continue wallowing in self-pity and never tell him about it.”  
Connor throws a pillow at Nines who catches it shortly before it can hit his face.  
“Well, at least you’ve finally decorated this place.”  
Connor groans and hides his face in the couch cushions.  
“I’m never getting up from here again”, he mumbles into them.  
“Okay. Want some company?”  
“Mmh.”  
Nines actually stays the night and Connor feels a little bit better come morning.

As it turns out, writing about love is easy. All Connor has to do is look at one of the memories he has of Hank smiling. After that, words just come easily to him. 

He’s nervous when he shows Hank the first words. Part of him is scared that Hank will recognize the words about him. Part of him wants him to.  
Hank looks so handsome right then. His hair is a ponytail but one strand of hair has fallen loose. Connor wants to touch it really badly. So he does. Hank’s smile at it is the most beautiful thing Connor has seen this far. 

“Uh,” Hank clears his throat and gestures to the notebook. “This is really good. I can’t believe you haven’t done this before.”  
“Got any ideas for it?”  
“Yeah, I think so.”  
Connor watches in awe as Hank’s fingers move over piano keys and guitar strings, as he tries to find a melody to Connor’s words.  
He’s fairly certain he’s going to die as Hank has him sing the first verse. It’s even worse when Hank sings alongside him. 

This is so far from what Connor was made for, what someone programmed him to do and yet, as he is sitting there next to this beautiful man and making music with him Connor feels as if he’s been made for this, as if this is what he was supposed to be doing all along.

Another strand of hair has fallen loose from Hank’s ponytail while he was playing and Connor can’t help himself. He reaches out a hand to undo his ponytail. The plan was to redo it afterward but now Connor’s hand is in Hank’s hair and he can hear Hank’s heartbeat speeding up. They stare at each in silence, for a long moment, before Hank reaches out his hand, caresses Connor’s cheek softly and Connor can feel his own thirium pump beating in rhythm with Hank’s heart. 

“Connor?”  
“Yes?”  
“Can I kiss you?”  
Connor barely manages to nod.  
Then, one second later, Hank’s lips are on his and suddenly Connor understands why people write so many songs about love.  
The kiss is unlike anything Connor has ever experienced. Kissing Hank feels like music and yet, somehow, still better. He only stops when Hank pulls away to breathe  
.  
“Wow.”  
Connor’s not sure that fully encaptures what he just felt, but it’s the only word that he can think of.  
“Yeah,” Hank chuckles.  
“I - can we do this again?”  
Instead of an answer Hank just pulls him into another kiss. 

It comes as a surprise to both of them how popular Hank’s new album is, especially their duet. Connor stares in quiet disbelief at the paychecks Hank keeps handing him every time. It’s the first time in Connor’s life people know his name for something other than his role in the revolution. It feels good, like shredding the last bit of hold Cyberlife has on him and actually becoming someone. 

Hank and he are great. Connor is new to relationships and everything that comes with them, but he likes being with Hank. He’s even met Cole by now, he’s a smart and kind kid and Hank had seemed pleasantly surprised at how well they got along. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Hank says, as he petting Connor’s hair and Connor moves closer, cuddling into him.  
“What about?”  
“How would you feel about making more music together?”  
Connor smiles into Hank’s chest.  
He’s been thinking about that too. It’s hard not to be inspired every time he looks into Hank’s eyes.  
“I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
